Three minutes passed without a word from Carla Brooks. Ryan looked into the front seat and spoke, "Dhin, status."

"They're still with us."

"Range?"

"They're hanging back about a quarter-klick."

They hadn't closed the distance; that in itself was strange. They must have known Ryan had tagged them.

Something nagged at the back of Ryan's mind, something he wasn't getting. He rubbed his eyes and cursed himself for not getting more sleep. He wasn't as sharp as he needed to be, and in the world of covert ops, a dulled edge was as good as a quick death.

In their place, Ryan would have done one of two things. Either split off and let a back-up team take over, provided there was one, and Ryan had to assume there was. If no back-up team was available, Ryan would have moved into strike position before the quarry had time to set up a defensive posture.

That nagging itch refused to go away, a familiar twitch he couldn't pin down. Almost a feeling of deja vu. This set-up tasted familiar, but Ryan just couldn't place the flavor.

"Is there any chance of losing them?" Ryan asked.

Dhin's chuckle was cold and humorless. "In this boat? They're driving a modified Eurocar. Sleek, fast, and surprise, surprise, lightly armored. No chance we'd outrun or outmaneuver it."

"Do we have any drones aboard?"

After a pause, "Yeah. One."

"Surveillance or assault?"

Dhin laughed again. "Well, I guess assault would sum it up, 'cause that's all it can do. It's a modified Stealth Sniper II, but somebody with a firepower fetish has stripped all its armor off and replaced the sniper rifle with a minigun. She's packing hot loads, which should cut that Eurocar in half, armor or no armor, but one hit with so much as a fly swatter, and the drone will go down."

Ryan smiled.

"Bossman, you want me to force them off the road?"

Ryan gave that option quick consideration before discarding it. "No, the outcome would be too uncertain. Besides, in the downtown cluster, that's going to attract a lot of very unwelcome local heat."

Ryan leaned forward to the telecom and called up a street map of the heart of the DC sprawl. The contour grid appeared, showing their position on the George Mason Memorial Bridge. If Ryan took the time to look out the Nightsky's window, he knew he would see the smog-clouded sunlight sparkling off the polluted waters of the Potomac.

"All right, Dhin, here's the plan. Just after the Jefferson Memorial, take Fourteenth up past the White House."

"You going to have the Federal Police take care of them?" Dhin's voice held a note of incredulity.

"No, continue on up to K Street."

Dhin slaved his screen to Ryan's telecom display so that he could see what Ryan was talking about.

"See the corner here, right at Fifteenth?"

"Got it."

"Just before we get there, punch it. Take the corner as fast as this boat will travel. If I've got their MO down, they'll accelerate to try and keep pace. As you round the corner, pop the drone. The high-rise should shield the action. Round the far corner here." Ryan highlighted the next comer one block up, which crossed toward Fifteenth. "But make sure you do it slow enough for them to play catch up. At that point, hit this alley."

"Playing cat and mouse, Bossman?"

"Yeah, but this time the mice have very sharp teeth. The instant you hit the alley, stand on the brakes, and I'll bail out. Then punch it to the far mouth of the alley and stop, blocking the exit. When they round the corner, we'll have them in a vice. On my signal, hit them with the drone's minigun. Disable the car, but make sure the occupants are still able to walk and talk when you get through with them."

Dhin whistled. "Poor slots aren't even going to know what hit them."

"I hope you're right."

A minute later, Dhin spoke. "We're closing in on target area. Tail vehicle running true to form."

"Ready."

"Here we go!"

Ryan heard the dim squeal of tires on pavement as the acceleration pressed him back into the cushions. With one hand he grabbed the Ingram off the seat beside him, with the other he lifted the mini-6 from his lap.

"First corner!"

Even leaning into the turn, Ryan found himself slammed into the door as the limo fishtailed around the corner. Then he heard the sharp click as the drone was sprung from the trunk.

"Tail vehicle accelerating. Second corner!"

Ryan grabbed the door handle and prepared himself to bail.

"Alley entrance!"

Ryan rocked sideways and forward as Dhin took the corner and slammed on the brakes. Ryan pulled the handle and rolled with the motion of the limo out into the dim, dirty alley. He kept rolling until he crashed into a trash dumpster. Pain wracked his shoulder, but he ignored it and scurried behind the dumpster, using magic to mask himself and blend with the dank surroundings.

He did a quick weapons check as Dhin accelerated down the alley. Everything was still in its proper place.

A second set of tires squealed as the nimble Eurocar shot past him. Ryan saw two figures in the vehicle, and from their heat signatures, he guessed the driver to be an ork and the passenger to be human.

Dhin screeched to a halt at the far end of the alley, causing blue-gray smoke to pour from the tortured tires of the limo. The Eurocar did the same, and for a long moment, everything was silent.

Then the back-up lights on the Eurocar glowed white, and the little car shot backward.

Ryan keyed his wrist phone. "Now!"

The high-pitched whine of the minigun's rotating barrel screamed from five meters overhead as Ryan stepped into the middle of the alley, weapons raised. The thunder of hot rounds hitting armor roared through the narrow confines of the alleyway, deafening Ryan.

He watched as the front of the Eurocar disintegrated before his eyes. Metal and sparks showered the flanking buildings as the minigun perforated the car's engine compartment like hail through thin glass. In less than five seconds, it was all over. The Eurocar's engine surgically separated from the rest of the vehicle.

Ryan heard the minigun's barrel whine to a stop, and once again silence filled the alley. The after-echo of violence rang in his ears.

He stepped forward, Ingram raised. "Occupants of the vehicle!" he shouted. "Step out of your car and keep your hands where I can see them."

There was a long pause, and slowly, the passenger-side door opened, and out stepped a tall, heavily built man of about forty-five, gray hair closely cropped to his skull. He wore light body armor covered by a short trooper's vest. The man's hands were above his head, and his brown eyes danced with a humor that was mirrored by the delighted grin on his face.

"Mister Mercury!" he said with a laugh, his familiar voice relaxed, comfortable. "It's lucky for us you happened by. There seems to be something wrong with our car. I told the management boys not to buy foreign-the damn things always seem to break down."

Oh, drek, thought Ryan as he lowered the Ingram. Suddenly he knew what that nagging itch had been trying to tell him. That sense of deja vu.